If It's Only a Dream
by Slaymesoftly
Summary: What if Buffy somehow shared or got into Spike's dream in OoMM? Would either of them be willing to explore those feelings in real life? Written for Spuffy Haven's Fics for Banners challenge. Guidelines for the story were set by the artist.


**If It's Only a Dream...**

**Chapter One**

_Spike's head came up as the door to his crypt burst open, letting in both an obviously angry slayer and a frightening amount of sunlight. It was to be expected, he supposed. He had just tried to kill her, after all. And he'd tried to get his chip out – which would mean that she was free to dust him without that pesky sense of fairness getting in the way._

_She walked up to him, pulling her stake from the waistband of her pants. _

"_I should have done this years ago."_

"_Do it! Just bloody do it. Take me out of this world that has you in it. End my torment."_

_Spike ripped off his shirt and stood there, arms at his sides and his bare chest only inches from her raised stake. The Slayer was staring at him; dumbfounded by his apparently serious death wish and making no move to drive the pointed wood into his so-accessible heart. For a tense moment they stared at each other, each one breathing hard, nostrils flaring and eyes glaring. Suddenly, he grabbed her arms and pulled her into a hard kiss._

_She responded immediately, meeting his frantic lips with her own equally eager ones - until she realized what she was doing and stepped back, eyes wide and hand to mouth. They continued to stare at each other, their eyes now more confused than angry. She walked toward him slowly, dropping the stake as she approached and took his face in both hands. Once again, their lips met in desperate kisses and as his mouth slid down to her neck, she murmured, "I want you, Spike."_

"_I love you so much," he gasped. "God, I love you so bloody much!"_

**Chapter One**

Buffy stamped her way to the vampire's crypt, fists clenched and fire in her eyes.

_That's it. He thinks the chip is out and the first thing he does is try to eat me? In the 'killing me dead' kind of way, of course – and why is it even necessary to make that distinction? Ewwww!_

She continued burning a path to his door, ignoring the slight flush her thoughts had brought to her face. She could remember the way it felt when he'd landed on her, holding her down with the weight of his lean, hard-muscled body while he reached for her throat with his fangs. For just a second, she had thought he was hesitating – as though he wasn't sure he really wanted to bite her. _Well, he got over that, didn't he? Serves him right that the chip was still in and it shocked him. I hope it hurt like hell!_

She threw open the door and charged up to the waiting vampire, her stake raised. He met her angry eyes, glare for glare, then, to her astonishment, he ripped off his shirt and presented her with his bared chest. Which was way more distracting than she would have expected... She barely listened while he told her "just do it!" her eyes riveted on the smooth pale skin and flexing muscles in front of her. Without actually seeming to peek, she was just able to catch a glimpse of light brown curls peeking over the waistband of his low-slung jeans, and her mouth was suddenly dry.

When she continued to stand there, stake raised but making no attempt to use it, he gave a groan and pulled her into a bruising kiss – a kiss that she found herself returning with more enthusiasm than she could have imagined. It wasn't until the words, "I want you" left her mouth, that she realized how true they were. She did want him – had ever since Willow's spell had allowed her a glimpse of how sweet and tender he could be; as well as what a wonderful kisser he was and how gentle his hands could be while stoking a fire that was proving to have been smoldering for over a year.

When he gasped his declaration of love into her neck, she moaned and tightened her arms, pulling herself up his body as though climbing a pole.

It was everything he'd thought it would be – he'd been pressed against that body so many times before, but only in the heat of a fight – and never when he was half-naked and could feel her hardened nipples against his skin. Her warmth, the combination of powerful muscle and soft curves, the silky feel of the skin so exposed by the flimsy shirt she was wearing – the very scent of her filled his senses. He knew he was babbling, knew that words were flowing from his mouth, but he paid no attention to anything either one of them said once Buffy had murmured "I want you".

When the words "I love you" left his mouth, he could only gasp at the verbal validation of the feelings that had been overwhelming him for the past few months.

I_ love her! Of course I love her. That's why I can't stop thinking about her – I wonder if... no, she said she wants me. That's a start. The Slayer wants me. I'll make her love me._

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against his body until he could feel her pulse pounding as though it was his own. When she wrapped her legs around him in an effort to have more contact, he lifted her up so that she could grind against his aching erection. Not able to get the kind of pressure he needed, he pushed her against the nearest wall, rubbing his aching cock into the damp heat that he could feel through her clothes.

_He loves me? Spike loves me? Oh, god, if this is what it means to have Spike love me.. .oh, there! Yes, yes. Push there, harder, oh my god, I want..._

She felt the rough stone of the wall scraping against her bare shoulders, but was immediately distracted by the hard object the vampire was grinding into her. Tiny whimpers of need left her throat as she clung to him and allowed him to set a frantic rhythm that soon had her muffling a shriek into his shoulder, unconsciously biting down as she did so. She collapsed against him, noting absently that he smelled and tasted really good, before the realization of what they'd done began to penetrate her lust-fogged brain.

Still dazzled by the way her heated squirming and needy whimpers had brought him off like a teenager, Spike was enjoying the scents surrounding them as he held her limp body against his and murmured his devotion against her neck. When he felt her stiffen in his arms and begin to push herself away, he couldn't prevent the pleading note in his voice as he whispered, "Don't leave, Buffy. I love you, I—"

Suddenly he was no longer holding a struggling slayer against his chest, but was sitting up on the sarcophagus he'd been using for a bed. A glance to his side told him that Harmony was still sound asleep, and the damp sheets told him that he hadn't imagined the powerful orgasm he'd just dreamed of sharing with the Slayer. He fell backward with a groan, remembering his words to her.

"No!" he blurted, "Please, God, no! Not the Slayer!"

"Spikey? Are you having a nightmare? Was it the Slayer? Did she come to find me?"

"What?" He tried to focus on Harmony's prattling, hoping it would distract him from what he was sincerely hoping had not been a sudden revelation, but had, in fact, been a real nightmare.

Buffy shot up in bed, her arms automatically extended in front of her in an attempt to push away the pleading vampire. She frowned in confusion when she met nothing but empty air and realized that the whole thing had been nothing but a dream..._a very hot, fulfilling dream—no! Nightmare! That was a nightmare. I don't want Spike! I would never—I might have thought about it while we were under Willow's stupid spell, but that was a long time ago. And it was a spell! Anyway, Spike doesn't love me. He hates me. And I hate him._

She fell backwards, her eyes open, staring into the darkness.

Could that have been a Slayer dream? It was so real... what could it be trying to tell me?

**Chapter Two**

To prove to herself that it was only a dream – maybe a Slayer dream, but a dream, never-the-less – and that she did not have the hots for Spike's admittedly desirable body, Buffy went out of her way to show Riley more affection than usual. She avoided Restfield Cemetery and any place else that she might accidentally run into Spike; although she told herself quite emphatically that she was not avoiding the chipped vampire, she was just..._avoiding him. I'm avoiding him. Which is ridiculous. It's not like I'm going to jump him the next time I see him. Or like he's going to know that I had that dream about him. I can see him. I should see him, actually – I haven't done anything about what he let Harmony do to Graham and Riley, or for trying to get his chip out. That part of the dream was right – I should stake him. He just proved that he can't be trusted and that if he gets that chip out he will go right back to killing..._

She was so distracted by her thoughts of staking Spike, that she missed the newly-risen vampire that was stalking her – until he had knocked her to the ground and sent her stake skittering away well out of reach. Cursing Spike for causing her to become careless, she tried to buck the vamp off her back, succeeding only in making him bring his fist down to meet her skull in a powerful blow that knocked her briefly unconscious.

When she opened her eyes, only seconds later, there was no sign of her attacker and yet her senses were screaming "vampire!" She moaned and rolled to her back, meeting a pair of worried blue eyes, only inches from her face. When he saw her looking back at him, Spike quickly stood up and moved away, unable to stop himself from asking, "Are you alright, Slayer? What happened?"

"It was your fault," she grumbled, pushing herself to a sitting position, and then popping to her feet. "And, owwww!" she added, rubbing the back of her head.

"_MY_ fault? How d'y figure that? I just saved your skinny little neck."

Buffy frowned. "You did, didn't you? Why did you do that, Spike? Why would you save me?"

The look on his face could only have been panic – panic that was quickly matched by Buffy's as she correctly read the reason for his panic.

_Ohmygod! He does love me. He loves me and he can't think of a good reason for saving me without admitting that he does._

Reacting quickly, before, she hoped, Spike could read the matching panic that was rapidly fueling her accelerated heartbeat, Buffy blurted, "You want to kill me!"

"Huh?"

"_You_ want to kill me," she repeated slowly, mentally willing him to go along with her explanation. "You won't let another vamp do it because you want to."

"Yeah, bloody hell – absolutely. That's exactly it, Slayer. You got it in one. _I_ want to kill you and no wanker of a fledgling is going to steal my thunder."

Sheer relief went through both of them and Spike slumped against a nearby tomb while Buffy rested on a headstone.

"Well, I'm glad that's settled," he grumbled, digging through his pockets for his cigarettes and lighter.

"Yeah. I mean, why else would you want to save me, right?" Her nervous laugh had him looking at her through narrowed eyes.

"Why else, indeed," he said suspiciously, listening as her heart rate went up again and her eyes widened. With a sinking feeling that he couldn't account for, he remembered her accusation and he said slowly, "How was that little near-death episode my fault, Slayer? I haven't seen you since—"

"Since you tried to get your chip out and ea—kill me."

"Yeah, since then." He studied the ground in embarrassment; then remembered that she hadn't answered. "Didn't answer my question, Slayer. How was it my fault?"

"Because I was so busy thinking about how I should be staking you that I wasn't paying enough attention. That's how it's your fault!"

"You want to stake me now?"

"You deserve it," she muttered without actually answering the question.

"S'pose I do," he agreed quietly. "But you've never done it. Why is that?"

"Well... because you were harmless and it wouldn't have been... and, you're not able to... and you're impotent!" she finished happily, ignoring his steadily growing snarls.

"I'll show you impotent, you bitch," he hissed, moving in front of her before she could blink.

"Oh, did I touch a nerve?" She glared back at him, daring him to follow through on his obviously lethal desires. "Poor Spikey, can't kill me, can't—"

"Can't what?" he asked dangerously, stepping even closer. "What can't I do, Slayer?" He reached out and grabbed her arms just as he had in the dream, only to have her break his hold and bring her recovered stake up quickly as she backed away.

"Don't touch me!" she said, cursing the way her voice squeaked. "Don't you dare touch me!" She waved her stake for emphasis.

"You want to stake me, Slayer? Then do it! Let me make it easy for you!" He dropped his duster to the ground and ripped his shirt open just as he had in the dream. "Go ahead," he dared. "Just bloody do it!"

Buffy was paying no attention – she was staring at his chest and stomach, then her eyes slid up to his shoulders and she gasped, putting her hand to her mouth and allowing the stake to fall to the ground unnoticed. When she didn't move or respond except to give a soft moan, he frowned and dropped his arms. As he did so, he saw where her eyes were riveted and if he could have blanched, he would have.

"What are you looking at?" he managed to choke out, unconsciously placing his hand over the teeth marks where his neck met his shoulder in a ridge of muscle.

"You... you have a bite mark on your shoulder," she whispered. "A human bite mark."

"So...?" He moved toward her again, allowing his hand to drop and leave the visible teeth marks on his smooth skin exposed. "I have a bite mark on my shoulder. What's it to you?"

"How did—where did you get it? Who... who bit you?"

"I'm guessin' from the look on your face that you bloody well know who bit me," he said slowly. "The question is – how the hell did you do it? Know you weren't really there."

"Of course I wasn't there! I wasn't anywhere – and I didn't – why would I bite you?" As the words left her mouth, she shuddered and closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable response to her impulsive question.

Spike didn't disappoint. "Oh, I think you know why, luv," he purred, pulling her unresisting body toward his. "I'll be buggered if I know how we did it, but you know why you sank those pretty little teeth into me just as well as I do."

"N… no..." She shook her head, small whimpers coming from her throat. "It was just a dream... just a dream… I would never..."

"You did, pet. You did. Don't know how you did it, but you walked into my dream and rocked my world. Turned me inside out and left me—"

"No!" Her more emphatic response stopped him in mid-sentence. "There has to be an explanation. Maybe... maybe Harmony bit you!" she said eagerly. "That could have happened, couldn't it? You were dreaming that it was me, but it wasn't... you were just... just—"

"Just shaggin' Harm in my sleep? And dreamin' she was you? Right, Slayer. And you know about my dream and the bite because...?"

"Because... because..." She stopped and stared at him, remembering his whispered endearments and the 'I love you' that had sparked her assault on his body. "Because I was right there," she admitted honestly. "I was there. In your dream."

"Was your dream too, wasn't it, luv? We dreamed the same thing; and it was brilliant – we were brilliant. And we'll be even better now that we're awake." He stroked one hand down her arm, saying softly, "Don't fight it, love. I don't want to fight it, I want—"

She stepped back when he reached for her again, shaking her head. "I can't do this," she whispered sadly. "I can't have another vampire in my life. I can't put my family and friends at risk like that."

He snarled, regretting it when she flinched, but growling his response. "What risk? I didn't _get_ the soddin' chip out. Remember?"

"But you tried," she said stubbornly. "You want it out and someday you will, or it will stop working, or something and... and I'll have to... and I don't want to, but I can't do that again. I can't watch someone I should have staked hurt the people I care about."

"I would never hurt your mum or the Bit. You know that, Slayer! I never hurt them before the chip and I wouldn't hurt them if I lost it. I wouldn't do anything to cause you that kind of pain."

"You say that now, but without the chip you're just... just like Angelus..." she whispered, flinching when the vampire gave a bloodcurdling snarl, picked up a headstone and threw it against the side of a near-by crypt. Neither one moved as he glared at the broken stone, hands fisted at his side, and his breath coming hard and fast. Buffy stared at the pieces of what was meant to be someone's permanent mark in the world and wondered if without the chip it would have been her body lying there in broken pieces.

"I am not, and never have been, 'just like Angelus'," he said slowly, growls still shaking his body. When he turned to glare at her, his eyes were flashing amber and she didn't think she had ever seen him look so intimidating – even when he was launching himself at her throat. "Thought you might have figured that out a long time ago, Buffy." She started at his use of her name and took an unconscious step toward him as his voice changed from an angry growl to a softer tone that couldn't hide his disappointment. "What with all the times I've been in your house without hurtin' anyone, and the coming to you for help when I needed it. But I guess not. I'm nothing but a demon to you, am I?"

The eyes he turned on her were full of sadness and resignation. "I guess it _was_ just a dream, then. Sorry to bother you with it, Slayer. I'll try to keep them to myself from now on."

Before she could respond or even make a decision about what her response might be, he whirled and disappeared into the darkness, only the cigarette left smoldering on the damp grass giving any indication of his presence.

_Well, that and the lump on my head from the vamp that he killed for me. Which he did because... because he loves me? Oh god, this is so not good._

**Chapter Three**

Buffy walked back to the dorm, grateful that she hadn't made plans to see Riley that night. In spite of having a quick recovery from his surgery, he continued to avoid being around her in any situations that might highlight his newly normal strength, and it was beginning to get on her nerves. Only the knowledge that she'd blurted out "If I wanted someone with super powers, I'd be dating Spike!" when he was having his emotional crisis over losing his enhancements had kept her from sharing her dream with him. Now, she was very grateful that she hadn't. It was more than obvious that he would have immediately interpreted it to mean that she preferred to be with the neutered vampire. _Which, I'm pretty sure, would quickly lead to stake-age. He still knows how to destroy vampires, and with one that can't fight back..._

Her heart rate went up as she realized exactly how vulnerable Spike was to humans, and she suddenly felt guilty about her reaction to his attempt to get the chip out. It must be frightening to live that way – knowing that if someone wants to hurt or kill you, there is nothing you can do to defend yourself. _Maybe I should remind Riley that Spike is harmless and should be left alone? No, that would be worse. Then he'd wonder why I care what happens to Spike – not that I do care. At all. Nope. No caring here..._

By the time she reached her room, she had thoroughly convinced herself that she didn't care what happened to Spike, and that she needed to be very careful what she said about him in front of Riley. She firmly ignored the little voice telling her that she was contradicting herself.

She got ready for bed, carefully avoiding the still-sore lump on her head as she brushed her hair out and donned a soft tee shirt to sleep in. She slid into her bed, snuggled into the covers and closed her eyes resolutely.

_No vampire dreams tonight._

She'd been sleeping for some time when a noise startled her awake; she glanced up to see the door opening slowly. Feeling vampire tingles, she jumped to her feet, grabbed a stake and crossed the room quickly, grabbing the knob and yanking the door the rest of the way open. Somehow she wasn't surprised to find Spike on the other side, just slipping the lock picking kit he'd used into his coat pocket.

"You couldn't knock?" she said, glaring at him and waving the stake. "I might have killed you."

"Still might," he said cheerfully. "Can I come in, pet?"

She was so used to the idea that Spike had access to anywhere she did, that it took her a few seconds to realize he'd never been in this particular dorm room and would need an invitation before he could cross the threshold.

"Yeah, sure," she said with a wave of her hand, walking to the desk to put the stake down. "Come in, Spike. It's not like I really wanted to get some sleep tonight."

"About that..." He looked at the floor and shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "I'm sorry," he blurted.

"Well, you should be! Uh... what for?"

"For that whole dream thing, and the way I... I'm just sorry, alright?"

"Do you always begin your apologies by breaking into people's bedrooms?" she asked, not quite able to reach the angry tone for which she had aimed. Instead, her lips twitched in a ghost of a smile.

"Well... yeah, if I think they might tell me to get lost if I knock."

"You couldn't have gotten in anyway," she pointed out.

"Didn't think of that till after," he muttered with a sheepish shrug. "It would have been a good plan... except for that little flaw."

"Like most of your plans," she snorted, no longer trying to hide her smile.

"Most of the ones that involve you," he agreed ruefully.

"So, assuming your attempted break-in had worked, what was the plan?"

He blinked at her briefly, then his gaze was drawn to the rumpled bed. She was suddenly conscious of her lack of clothing when his eyes drifted back to run up her tanned legs to where the tee shirt just covered the tops of her thighs. He licked his lips as she backed up, whispering, "Oh no, you don't. I was peacefully sleeping and you—" She broke off, staring at him. "What were you doing earlier?"

He frowned. "Earlier? What do you mean, earlier?"

"I mean, moron, what were you doing before you decided that breaking and entering was the best way to begin an apology to a slayer?"

"What was I doing? I don't know, I think I was—"

She watched as his thoughts began to mirror her own suspicions. "I was in bed... sleepin'," he said slowly, moving toward her with suddenly warm eyes. "I was sleeping," he repeated firmly. "And you were sleeping. So that means..."

"We're dreaming... again," she finished for him, holding her ground as he advanced.

"We're dreaming," he agreed softly, pulling her into his chest and running his mouth down her neck. "We're jus' dreaming, so it doesn't matter what we do, does it?"

"I have a boyfriend," she whimpered, sliding her arms around his neck. "It's cheating."

"Not cheating if it's not really happening," he reasoned, his hands roaming over her back and satisfying himself that the tee shirt was all that she had on. "You can't be held responsible for what you dream."

"I suppose not," she whispered, standing on her toes to reach his waiting mouth. "It's not my fault if we..."

"Exactly. Not our fault if we..."

He picked her up and was at the bed in one stride, turning so as to fall on to it with her on top of him. She squirmed around until she was stretched out along his length, giving in to the way her body was craving his touch and the urge to run her own hands over that smooth skin that she remembered from the previous dream.

As if the realization that it was a dream had freed her of all inhibitions, she sat up abruptly and began to push his shirt up so that she could see and feel the chest that she remembered so well. She slid back onto his thighs when he sat up long enough to shrug out of his duster and allow her to push the tee shirt off over his head. While Buffy reacquainted herself with his skin, laving it with her tongue and nibbling on his pebbled nipples, he took the opportunity to lift her own tee shirt and skim it over her head quickly. Without missing a beat, Buffy continued to kiss her way around his upper body, pushing him back down onto the bed so that she could allow her hands, eyes and mouth, free rein.

While she explored the body in front of her, quickly popping open the button on his jeans and sliding the zipper down to free the object of her search, Spike's hands were tracing paths around her body. He kept up a litany of appreciative murmurs as he caressed and stroked her – cupping her breasts and rolling the nipples with his fingers, then dropping one hand to grasp one rounded globe of her ass and knead it vigorously.

In no time, she was panting and tugging on his jeans, anxious to remove them and be able to touch him everywhere that he was touching her. With a groan, he lifted her off to the side and quickly shoved his pants down to where he could toe them off with his feet. The instant his boots hit the floor, followed quickly by his jeans, he rolled Buffy over, pinning her with his weight and forcing her to meet his gaze. When her eyes shut and she moaned, molding herself to him eagerly, he said, "Look at me, Buffy. I need you to look at me."

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and kept them on his. They widened as he slid into her, still holding her gaze as he said distinctly, "I love you, Buffy. I know this isn't real. Know you wouldn't be doing this if you didn't know it wasn't real, but the way I feel about you... that's real. It isn't gonna go away when I wake up. I'm yours, love. Whether you want me or not. I'm yours."

"I—" Her voice was choked and she cleared her throat to try again. "I want you," she said clearly, clenching around him and smiling when he couldn't prevent a gasp and a groan. "I want you, Spike."

Their hips began moving in a timeless rhythm, whimpers and gasps turning to growls and cries as they quickly built to an orgasm that left them both trembling with the after effects. Spike was planting soft kisses all over her face, while Buffy wrapped her legs around his thighs as though to hold him in place. If she was surprised to feel him harden within her so quickly, she didn't say so, just flexed her muscles and flipped them over so that she was riding him, moving slowly up and down while she stared into his adoring eyes.

As her movements became faster and jerkier, he put his hands on her hips and held her in place, arching his back to drive himself deeper while she writhed on top of him, her head back and her mouth open in a small "o" of wonder. When she felt she was going to scream her release, she fell forward and once again sank her teeth into the ridge of muscle on the side of his neck, effectively muffling her cry even as she brought out his demon.

Without thought, the vampire's now-sharp fangs slid into the skin of her neck, allowing small amounts of her blood to coat his mouth and tongue and to trickle down his throat. Immediately, he felt his own release and he cried her name into her skin as he emptied himself over and over.

When they had recovered enough that he had licked the tiny wounds closed and pulled the covers up over their limp bodies, Buffy mumbled into his chest, "You bit me."

"You bit me first," he said, kissing the top of her head. "It's going to be alright, love. It's only a dream, remember?"

"Yeah, well there better not be any fang holes in my neck when I wake up, or you're in big trouble, buster," she muttered, smothering a yawn and curling into his embrace. "You hear me? No marks..."

"Got it, love. No marks in the morning. You're going to wake up and that beautiful neck will be just as smooth and clear as it was when you went to sleep."

Her answer was lost in a sigh as she gave in to the lassitude evoked by their love-making, and fell into a deep, restorative sleep. With a smile on his face, Spike also succumbed to the pleasant afterglow and dozed off, his nose buried in her hair and his arms wrapped firmly around her soft body.

**Chapter Four**

With a yawn, Buffy stretched her pleasantly tired body and tried to sit up. When she realized that she was being held in place by a dead weight, albeit one that seemed to be holding her in a loving embrace, she sighed and snuggled back down.

_I guess I'm still asleep_, she thought, just before she noticed that that the sun was barely lighting up the sky outside the window. Her eyes flew open wide and she brought her head up to meet Spike's sleepy, satisfied gaze.

"Mornin', love," he sighed, dipping his head into a warm kiss that distracted her momentarily. She allowed herself to indulge in sleepy, sensual kisses for several minutes before she remembered why she had suddenly come so awake.

"Spike!"

"Mmm, hmmm," he murmured.

"Spike, wake up! Pay attention, this is serious!"

"What is?" he grumbled, opening his eyes all the way, but continuing to kiss whatever body parts he could reach without actually moving.

"It's daytime!"

"So?"

"So, shouldn't we be awake by now?"

"We are awake. You're being right noisy about it, Slayer, truth be told. You get me any more awake and you might have a problem on your hands... or in them, better yet," he leered hopefully.

"If we're awake – if I'm awake and you're awake – then why are you still here?"

"Because there isn't anywhere else I'd rather be?" he answered carefully, beginning to understand why she was so upset.

"Spike!" she hissed. "This isn't funny!"

"That wasn't meant to be funny, love," he said with a sigh, lying back and pulling her down with him. "I get it, Buffy. I do. We're either dreamin' that we're awake, or..."

"Or we aren't dreaming, and we really did... Oh, God!"

"Was it really that awful, pet?" He tried to keep his voice light, but she felt his arms tighten just enough to let her know that he heard the horror in her voice.

She allowed her face to rest against the skin of his neck, absently inhaling his scent as she nuzzled into him. "No," she said softly, her voice muffled by the way her mouth insisted on fastening itself onto the spot where she'd bitten him. "You know it wasn't awful. But I thought it was a dream! I thought it didn't matter what we did, or that I..." She stopped sucking on her bite mark and raised her head to meet his eyes. "I thought it didn't matter that I wanted you – that you said you... you love me. I could just enjoy it because it wasn't real. Now it's real."

"It was always real for me, love," he said slowly, stroking her face and willing her to see into his heart. "I didn't know it until that first dream, but it was always real for me. I meant what I said last night. I'm yours, whether you want me or not. I'll always be yours."

"I do want you... but I can't—I don't love you. I won't love you," she said stubbornly.

"Can't and won't aren't the same thing as don't, sweetheart." He tried to smother the warm ball of hope growing inside his chest. "All that says is that you don't want to admit it."

"There's nothing to admit," she growled, her lower lip coming out in a pout. "There's just this... weird... inappropriate..." She whimpered when he began kissing his way down her throat. "... and very strong physical attraction that..." She arched up with a little mewing sound when he fastened his mouth on one breast and began sucking on her nipple. "I don't love you," she gasped, opening her legs for him as she argued.

"But you want me," he purred, smiling at the way she responded to his hand and moving his mouth down her body until it hovered over her. "You want me – you want what I can do to you."

"Uh, huh," she nodded her head, rendered incoherent by what he was now doing with his tongue. "Uh huh, huh, huh!"

"I can work with that," he said with satisfaction, sliding up until he was looking into her eyes and nudging at her entrance. "I can work with that."

"I might kinda like you," she whispered as he once again slowly filled her until they both sighed with relief and began to move together. "I think I kinda like you."

**the end**


End file.
